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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22510267">The First Raven</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightling/pseuds/TheNightling'>TheNightling</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Sandman (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:02:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,823</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22510267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightling/pseuds/TheNightling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A fan fiction about how Lucien became The Librarian of The Dreaming.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The First Raven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The First Raven:   </p><p>Disclaimer:  This is a very short Sandman fan fiction.  The Sandman belongs to Neil Gaiman and DC comics.</p><p>“Milord, I have served you loyally and faithfully this past millennium…”  The speech was well practiced but the tone still revealed a certain nervousness and lack of ease.  His voice trembled with uncertainty.<br/>
“What is your point, Lucien?” The Dreamlord sounded weary.     </p><p>	Morpheus was seated on his Nightmare Throne.  The whole of it looked to be carved from dark wood and had a Gothic aesthetic to its design.  There were three steps leading up to the ornate throne itself and upon those steps, on either side, were small pumpkins.   Pumpkins had not yet been introduced to Europe at this point but Morpheus and his raven were not in Europe.  They were in The Dreaming.  And he rather liked the look of them.<br/>
The throne was well designed and candles were fixed on the high back of the seat.  Spider-webs made of silk dandled at certain parts as part of the decorative intention.</p><p>	Morpheus, himself, matched the throne in his own, long, black robes.  His eyes were almost entirely black save for the tiny star-like pupils.  And he had wild, dark hair. He was painfully thin and his skin was as white as bone.  The sleeves of his robes were belled and as such easily fell down his skinny arm when he rested his elbow on the armrest of the throne so that his hand was under his own chin.</p><p>	He looked at the black bird that stood on the ground in front of him.  He watched the bird with intent and perhaps some discrete affection.</p><p>	“Sire,” The raven said, “I have become weary of my post.  I wish to continue to serve you in some capacity but…”<br/>
“But no longer as my raven?”  The Dreamlord sounded disappointed.<br/>
“Well… Uh…   Yes.”  He said meekly, fearing his lord’s well-known wrath.<br/>
“I see.”<br/>
The raven cringed with dread, knowing his lord’s temper.  The cringe came when he saw that Morpheus was rising from his seat on the throne.<br/>
Morpheus descended down the stairs of the throne and stopped at the raven.  He knelt down and offered his arm for the raven to perch on the dark sleeve of the robe.<br/>
“Lucien, you have served me well this past millennia, it is true.   And if you wish to retire from your post, I owe you a boon as payment for your service to me.  Perhaps I can see to that boon benefit us both.”<br/>
“But I-“<br/>
Morpheus made a “Shhhh.” sound as he placed a finger to the black beak, without fear of being bitten by his raven.<br/>
“If you wish to continue to serve me that can be arranged.  But I have had time, Lucien, ample time to prepare for your inevitable retirement and what is owed to you and what shall be done with you, provided your consent, of course.”</p><p>	The raven was considerably worried now.  Was he angry and just toying with him?  Was he secretly furious that his raven would want to no longer be his raven?   Nervously he took perch on Morpheus arm, careful not to let his talons pierce the soft, black velvet of the sleeve, and Morpheus rose to stand.<br/>
He walked with Lucien toward a staircase that had not been there a moment before. </p><p>  Morpheus walked with his raven, up a long, curving, staircase, to a set of grand doubled doors that almost appeared to be made of gold, and maybe something far stronger than gold hidden under the gilded platting.  These were doors Lucien had never seen before but some part of him felt a rush of excitement at what might be behind them.</p><p>	Morpheus placed his hand against the heavy, gilded, doors and the doors easily gave way to his touch.<br/>
Beyond the doors was a room that seemed as wide and expansive as the castle as itself, if not more so.   There were stone tablets with carvings engraved into them, resting against the walls.  There were slotted shelves, with perfect square openings.  And in each square was a perfect Greek or Roman scroll.   There were texts from Mesopotamia written on untreated lamb’s skin.  There were hand-bound volumes of the new and gorgeous invention, the book.  There were many books already.   More than what Lucien imagined existed in the Waking world.<br/>
These were things that Lucien loved dearly.  Poetry, art, plays, history…  All compiled here in this grand repository.  He had never seen such a thing.<br/>
The raven flew from his perch and began to fly through the stacks and shelves, exploring the texts that were easy to see, the ones pinned to walls or in display cases of transparent glass.<br/>
He flew back to Morpheus and flapped his wings to stay at face level with him.   This grand collection of stories and knowledge was all he could ever dream of, all his little heart had desired.<br/>
“My Lord…  Is this- is this Heaven?”<br/>
“No.  But it could be your Heaven.  Do you want it?”<br/>
“Me?”  Lucien’s little raven eyes seemed to swell to double their size.  Had he been human they might have been welling with tears.  Even now they seemed glassy with emotion.<br/>
“This new library will house all the stories that are dreamed of.   Every tale that was never told and yet dreamed of by the potential author will be here.  Along with their Waking works, of course.”<br/>
“My lord, I- I don’t know what to say…”<br/>
“Say you will be my librarian.   Consent to this change of position and this library will be yours forever.”<br/>
“Oooh, yes.”<br/>
“Very good.”  There was a twinge of something like a smile on the edges of Morpheus’ mouth.	“What form would you like to have?”<br/>
“What form?”<br/>
“Yes.  You are no longer my raven.  You could physically remain a raven but I am under the impression you don’t want that.  And it would make your new duty somewhat difficult, though not necessarily impossible…”<br/>
“Do you want to be human?”<br/>
“Well, not exactly…” Lucien said with careful thought.  “Humanish, I suppose.   It’s been so long I don’t think I know how to be a human.  But I wouldn’t mind thumbs, and hair.   And…   Ooooh, may I be tall?”<br/>
“You may.”  Morpheus actually looked amused.   He imagined it could sometimes get frustrating to have the size of a bird and not be able to reach things without the aid of flight.<br/>
“Taller than you?” he asked cautiously.  “Say… about a head taller than you?”<br/>
Morpheus walked from him and ran a pale, bony finger over one of the book spines to his left.  “You would have to be tall to reach some of the higher shelves with ease.”  He said thoughtfully.</p><p>	“I don’t want to look the way I did… before I was your raven.  I want to be someone new.  Can you make me a body specific to being your librarian?”  Lucien had not always been a raven but he was not fond of remembering who or what he had been before then and Morpheus was obliged to not remind him.  Though Lucien had been the first raven, Morpheus had consciously decided that if he sought new ravens to serve him, he would pick souls that had not quite liked being human anyway.<br/>
“I can.”</p><p>	Morpheus moved to the raven.  He reached for the leather pouch that hung at his own hip and drew out a fistful of the glittering, magical sand.  He scattered this over the raven. Lucien shut his eyes with uneasy anticipation.<br/>
Morpheus’ cunning fingers went to work as if he was sculpting soft clay. </p><p>Lucien barely felt the transformation but as he changed, each aspect of the metamorphoses seemed perfectly natural.  White fingers lightly stroked the feathers on top of Lucien’s head.   Before he realized it he had hair the color of dry, autumn leaves.  It was very much brown.<br/>
His nose, though human, was still somewhat beak-like. He felt the nimble fingers lightly tugging at what was fast becoming human-like (or elf-like) ears.  The ears were pointed as many of Morpheus’ creations had pointed ears.  Morpheus rather liked pointed ears.   The skin tone was Caucasian and light.  The eyes were brown, like the hair.</p><p>Lucien knew his eyes were changing when he felt the fingertips lightly rest against his eyelids.  The magick tingled through him.  When the tingling faded Lucien finally opened his eyes.  He moved toward a mirror that hung on the wall and he was certain had not been there a moment before. He examined himself, the new face- quite different from his original human one.  He approved of the beak-like nose.  And the soft, expressive, brown eyes.  He even liked the hair, it almost felt like feathers. </p><p>He was wearing a suit of new clothing.  And he looked down at his hands, flexing the fingers.  They felt good.  They felt natural.   He turned to his side, where his lord now stood.  And he looked down at Morpheus.  How small and child-like his lord looked to him from this height!	 He looked around himself in wonder and then grimaced.<br/>
“What’s wrong?”  Morpheus asked, like a painter who might have just learned his latest masterpiece had a flaw.<br/>
“It’s- It’s nothing… It’s just…”<br/>
“Just what?”<br/>
Lucien lightly touched the eyelids.  “It’s all satisfactory, milord.  And I don’t want to sound ungrateful…  I very much appreciate the height. But...”<br/>
“But?”<br/>
“It’s the eyes…   I saw so much clearer as a raven, so far, and with impeccable detail.  These eyes are weak and the words in the spines blur from a distance.”  He frowned.  “It’s rather blurred and faded compared to how I saw as a raven.”<br/>
“You would prefer to have kept your raven eyes?”  Morpheus raised his hand as if to ready himself to undo some of his work.  Raven eyes sized to fit a human head-like wouldn’t be too difficult.<br/>
Lucien shook his head.  “No.   I like the look of them.  I just...”<br/>
“You just want to see as you saw as a raven but retain those eyes?”<br/>
Lucien nodded, reluctant to ask for such a thing.</p><p>Morpheus reached into the pouch at his hip and took out a fistful of glittering dreamsand.  He scattered this into the air and caught the thing that was taking form.   He placed the round spectacles on the bridge of Lucien’s nose.  “There.”<br/>
Lucien pushed the spectacles the rest of the way up his face.  From behind the glass he saw precisely as he had with his raven eyes.  “Oh!  Oh, that is much better!  Thank you, Milord!”</p><p>There was that trace of a smile again on Morpheus’ face.   “Does this make you happy, my librarian?”<br/>
“It is all I have ever wanted.”<br/>
“Then it is yours.   This is your reward for serving me as my raven.  You will serve me now as my librarian.”</p><p>And so Lucien the Librarian was born.</p><p>The End</p>
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